The Guilty Party Here Is The Alcohol
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: alternate BIOTA oneshot based on a prompt given by theotterjew on Tumblr. light Kurtofsky. Santana and Dave interaction. and with just a hint of angst, one-sided crushing, humor, and drunken silliness. kinda AU. note: rated T for swearing.


**A/N: TheOtterJew on Tumblr gave me this prompt (with Kurtofsky in mind): "****Dave gets blackmailed into bringing the booze to rachel's party because he looks old enough then he get's pressured into taking body shots off brittney to show his heterosexuality then then then he gets drunk and they play spin the bottle." And, naturally, I've been looking for a good excuse to do my own version of 'what would have happened if Dave had been there' sort of thing, so. Here you go~ ;D**

**This is kinda AU. Like, all around BIOTA. So bear with me here. It's for the lulz and this request, anyhey. C:**

…**And once again, I manged to slip in some Santana and Dave interaction regarding their similar situation. What the Hell is wrong with me? XD**

**

* * *

**

He doesn't know how he got goaded into this. It was something that Puckerman did, and that Hudson mentioned, and that Dave just got dragged into.

Dave doesn't know how Hudson stands him, actually; one minute he's super protective of his stepbrother, and the next he's trying to make nice with his stepbrother's bully? Dave doesn't get it, but he doesn't mind it, either, because at least this way there might be a chance to set things straight, because Dave is conflicted and confused and frustrated and generally at a loss at what to do and how to act.

So Dave simply shrugs and agrees to bring the alcohol Puckerman is asking for, since the Mohawked teen doesn't want to break his parole, and figures that Dave can pass for over twenty-one, especially if he doesn't shave for a few days. And Dave is always seeking the approval of his peers, even the ones he somewhat dislikes, like the Glee clubbers. Well, that, and Puck is kind of guilting him into it.

Finn is all for it; he claps Dave on the shoulder and thanks him for coming, and even tells him that since Kurt blackmailed Finn into inviting him, that this might be the great opportunity for Dave to apologize to Kurt and get on the Glee Club's good side.

It's all a little awkward and strange and painful, because Rachel thinks he's against gays – which he kind of is, just a little, because doesn't want to be one, not when they're so disapproved of, but he knows that he _is _one; a homosexual, that is – and he knows that Kurt is going to see him and want to leave. So he isn't sure how all of this is going to go down, but he's willing to try. And if he just chooses to come late, maybe… just by a little, just enough to make sure Kurt will already be there… then it might work. Maybe.

Dave nibbles on his bottom lip discreetly as he walks out of the liquor store, the guy totally buying his fake ID and even smiling at him as he scanned all of the party liquor, like the mini-keg and all of the bottles and six-packs.

"Looks like it's gonna be one helluva party, dude. Kudos," the guy had said, and now Dave is driving over to Berry's house, feeling like scum for lying, and even more like scum for realizing that, with everyone drunk or buzzed, things could get wild or ugly.

Still, he shows up, nerves aside, and even dares to flash a grin or two as Rachel begrudgingly lets him inside and as Puck and Finn high-five him and help him with the bags of beer and booze. Rachel doesn't look pleased at first, but she soon warms up to the idea of all of the alcohol, since she wants to write a song or something and she, like Dave, seems to give in to peer pressure with the right pushing.

Kurt arrives after Dave, and as soon as he walks down the stairs, it's difficult not to stare. Dave tries to hide behind his red plastic cup, taking a long, hearty sip to cover his face with the rim. But he peers over it, shamelessly eyeing Kurt up and down. He hasn't seen the soprano in months, and he half expected the pale-skinned boy to be in his uniform, but no, of course he isn't.

Instead, he's in this perfectly tight-fitting pair of black, frayed-at-the-sides skinny jeans, complete with boots, taunt red shirt, and some sort of strappy bondage-thought-triggering belt-thing across one shoulder and hooking to his waist. His hair is flawless, and he's smiling at Rachel and talking to his prep school (boy)friend(?), who is also out of his uniform, unlike how Dave remembers him.

And Dave nearly chokes on his second gulp of beer, because Kurt is somehow more attractive than Dave remembers, perhaps because this is one of the few, rare times he's seen the boy truly smiling. Dave glances away, looking to Santana, who is currently macking on Evans, her pretty blonde boyfriend.

"Karofsky!" Finn greets, and Dave sinks a little lower onto the couch, because Finn is cheery and sober and too loud; Kurt heard him, and now Kurt's glancing Dave's way, and Dave almost wishes that Kurt were drunk already so that he wouldn't look half as frozen and horrified as he does in this instant.

"H-hey, Hudson," Dave begins unsurely, forcing a lopsided smile to match Finn's. Finn came in with Kurt, so he's making his rounds, and now it's Dave's turn for a bro-hug. "Wussup?"

"Nothin' yet, man. But hey, while the party is still warming up, this is the perfect time to apologize; that way you have the rest of the party for Kurt to be okay around you, y'know?" Finn replies, and Dave nods dumbly, because it makes sense, but that doesn't mean he wants to do it. He should just leave now and spare both him and Kurt the unsettling atmosphere between them.

Instead, however, Dave guzzles down a bit more liquid courage and makes his way over to Kurt across the basement, toward the mini-bar that Rachel's dads own. Kurt makes it a point to look away and ignore him.

With a lightly fuzzy, high-feeling head, Dave leans against the bar beside where Kurt is perched on a swivel-stool. He looks uncomfortable, tense. Dave swallows thickly, feeling guilty.

"Uh. Hey, Hummel," he starts weakly, "Look, I know I'm, like, the last person you want to see, but… uh. Did you see me dance at the championship game? At halftime? I'm… I'm thinking about joining Glee. I kinda like it, even if it's the lamest thing ever. But, uh. I thought… you know…"

"Can you just get to the point, Karofsky? Or leave? Because I actually came here to have _fun,_" Kurt retorts icily, cutting Dave off.

Dave licks his lips nervously and glances away for a second, offended and trying not to get angry. Glancing back, he utters in a rush, "I wanted to say I was sorry to you, all right?"

Kurt quirks a brow, surprised. "What did you just say? Are you actually trying to _apologize _to me, Karofsky? After all you've done? And at a party, no less."

"Um… yeah? What does it matter? 'S not like I could burst into that Westerville school and hunt you down to apologize, or send you a message or something over the Internet. What more do you want from me, Hummel? I'm sorry, okay. Plain and simple. I regret it all. That enough?"

"Not nearly, but it's a start, I suppose. It's probably the best I'll ever get out of you," Kurt answers with an air of toleration about him. He stands. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go talk to my stepbrother."

And he leaves, the music getting louder as the drinks start circulating fully. Rachel gets buzzed almost immediately, having a zero tolerance level in comparison to everyone else present at the shindig. Blaine, Dave learns the prep boy's name is, seems fully content getting smashed on a few drinks and spending the next few songs crunking in the background. Kurt is dancing beside Finn, talking to him, and Dave notices through his haze that Finn seems just as sober as Kurt. Must be a designated driver. Finn always seemed responsible that way.

Dave sighs heavily, and tries to lose himself for a while. Take his mind off of everything distracting about Kurt and everything troubling regarding Kurt, and focusing instead on playing coin-shots with some of the gleeks, and even going as far as to prove how much Kurt _doesn't _affect him by joining Lopez in licking salt from Brittany's abdomen, taking Tequila shots, and biting into limes to add to the taste.

Everyone cheers him on, but Dave is good at holding his liquor. He's able not to become too smashed, at least, not smashed enough not to see what's going on.

He decides to hold off on any drinks for a good hour. Might as well, since he's suddenly losing interest in the burn going down his throat and the acid unsettling his stomach. So he holds off, but within half an hour, after chugging, weeping (on Santana's part), yelling (on Quinn and Lauren's parts), laughing (on Tina and Mercedes' parts), stripping (on Brittany's part), and finally, overall dancing, Rachel stands up and says it:

"Spin the bottle! Who wants to play spin the bottle? Spin. The. Bottle," she calls out happily, and soon everyone is gathered into a circle, and it just about Kills Dave when he's seated two people away from Kurt.

The game is hectic. There is no sense of coupling. The bottle is random, and because of the rules and everyone's lack of inhibitions due to their inebriation.

Sam kisses Brittany. Santana's jealous, and Dave can't pick out why as he gets increasingly more sober.

He watches as Puck has to kiss Artie, Quinn (reluctantly) has to kiss Rachel, Finn's spin lands on Tina, Mike's spin chooses Mercedes, and then other little weird things happen, like Brittany kissing Dave and Quinn having to hurt herself in that heartbreaking way by kissing Sam, who seems unsure of whether or not some boundaries are being crossed or not when it comes to kissing his freshly ex-girlfriend.

But the funniest thing is when Finn and Sam have to kiss, since they are like rivals almost all the time, and Sam seems a little too open to it whereas Finn seems scared shitless of having to kiss a guy, mainly because he's blushing furiously and seems too embarrassed/uncomfortable with himself to do it. But they do – a quick peck, unlike the joking smooch Puck had leaned over and laid on Artie – and it's over quickly.

And then comes the kicker. Kurt spins the bottle, only having to kiss his best friend on his other turn, and its small opening points directly at Dave's pretzeled legs.

Kurt turns whiter than usual, and Dave feels his face grow hot. They stare at each other, eyes slowly connecting, and everyone around them simply laughs drunkenly.

"Hey, lookit that! Now they have to kiss and make up!" Puck laughs uncontrollably, leaning on the couch into Mike more. Beside him, Artie slaps someone's leg as he laughs.

"N-no. I'm not kissing _him; _I refuse!" Kurt exclaims, and Dave looks down at his socks, feeling ashamed, because he _wants _to kiss Kurt again, ever since the first time he has wanted to, but he can't, not in front of these people.

So, putting on his façade, Dave scowls and says loudly, "Yeah, like I'd ever do something as gay as kiss _you, _Hummel! You can count me out!"

"But guys, this is part of the game! Puck kissed Artie, didn't he? And Sam and Finn had to kiss. So just do it, guys! Get it over with! It's just a game. Doesn't mean anything," Rachel giggles, and leans onto Kurt as she bats her eyelashes lazily up at him. "C'mon, Kurt. 'S nothing," she slurs, "Karofsky'll be nice. Right, Karofsky? Since, you know. You might be all homophobic but it's not like we're telling. What stays at the Berry house happens at the Berry house, right?"

"I think you mean that happens at your house stays at your house, like the Vegas saying, right?" Finn frowns, confused. The brunette nods, shrugs, and gestures around as if to say that everyone understood her anyway, which they had, in their equally drunken minds.

Kurt sucks in his lip between his teeth, and Dave glances around for a moment. Then, cautiously, Dave decided to lean across the two people separating them and, on one hand and both knees, he brings his face close to Kurt. In a whisper only Kurt can hear (and one that Rachel isn't paying attention to), he tells the shorter teen, "I'm sorry about this, too, but we have no choice. I'll try to make it quick, I promise."

Kurt nods deftly and leans in as well, meeting Dave the rest of the way.

Dave brushes back his blunt curve of his nails over Kurt's sideburn and ear, reaching for the back of his head. He brings their mouths together, being careful to keep his lips loose but together as they slide past Kurt's, lock into place, and mold into the other boy's.

Oddly and unexplainably (perhaps because Dave is being gentle this time, and it was expected because of the game?), Kurt reacts. With unpracticed moves, his lips progress in a synced motion with his former bully's.

But it only lasts for a second. Dave is the first to pull away, because though the bizarre sense of _right, _he remembers that others are watching that he's not supposed to be gay, especially not in their eyes, so he removes himself quickly, blinks a few times, and then abruptly stands and flees the room. He doesn't even chance a glance at Kurt's reaction, nor the reactions of anyone else in the room.

He heads upstairs to the bathroom, immediately locking the door behind himself. Panting lightly, Dave splashes cold water on his face to shake the feeling of Kurt's breath on his face, of Kurt's warm skin under his fingertips, of Kurt's lips on his lips.

But it doesn't work. Dave feels overly sensitive and hyperaware, and it's sending tingles throughout his body, all from one touch.

"Karofsky! Hey, Karofsky! I saw that, you know. I _saw. _That – that wasn't a normal peck. That was a real _kiss. _You _like _Kurt, don't you?" Santana is hollering through the bathroom door, and to silence her, he whips over the door and yanks her inside.

The Latino girl glares at him after she trips and stumbles on her heeled shoes. "Shh! Do you want everyone downstairs to hear you, you dumb bitch?"

"Me, the dumb bitch? Oh-ho, _no. _I'm not the one being a big _idiot _here! You – you're worse than I am with Brittany!" Santana says with a slur.

For a clueless moment, the lingering alcohol in Dave's system renders him incapable of deciphering what she means. But then it clicks into place: Santana is a lesbian. Or, at least, she likes girls enough to be in love with one like Dave is with Kurt. And like him, Santana's afraid of it.

"You know, hiding up here only makes you look guilty. Running away means that it isn't a joke, and you _liked _it. Which I know you totally did. Don't lie t' me, Kar'fsky," Santana goes on, and Dave is a little dumbstruck and horrified, not sure what to do. He's been caught.

And so, he retaliates. "At least I did _something, _Lopez," he snarls, "Because if you like Brittany so much, then why don't you _do _something about it? She's your friend. She might even give you a shot, unlike _me,_" he snaps, and pushes past her back out into the hallway; she's right about one thing: he needs to get back downstairs in order to look less… suspicious.

Behind him, Santana – ever the emotional drunk – starts weeping and blubbering something about him being right about her before moodily tagging along behind him.

Dave and Santana missed something here, because as Santana cleans herself up again and rejoins Sam on the couch, Rachel and Blaine are suddenly up on stage, about to sing. Dave sits back from the miniature platform, somewhere near a very contented, cup-hugging Mercedes, and tries not to glance Kurt's way where he sits, a little dazed, on the bench of the piano in the corner.

Blaine and Rachel sing a great duet of 'Don't You Want Me,' and Dave is momentarily swept away by the energy of the performance. But soon his mind is snapped back into place as the party soon comes to a close not forty-five minutes later. It had lasted hours, it's true, and at one point, Blaine had gone home with Kurt since he'd been too drunk to drive himself to Westerville again.

It makes Dave a little more than sick with jealousy inside, but he sucks it down and drowns himself in a final drink before hiking home. He doesn't want to risk driving, and he can always pick up his car from Berry's house later; they only live a few blocks apart. If he hadn't been the alcohol-bringer, Dave would have walked to the party anyhow.

It isn't until the following week, after the explosive school assembly is over and done with that Dave hears from someone about the party in regards to his own behavior. Mostly everyone had been too drunk to recall… except Kurt. And Finn. And Santana.

Finn is the first to bring it up.

"Hey, man. Why haven't you been in Glee Club this past week with us? You were invited to be, you know. You could've helped us with the assembly, since it kind of, uh… ended poorly."

"But beneficially," Dave grumbles under his breath, but Finn doesn't notice. Louder, Dave says, "Maybe I changed my mind. And maybe it doesn't matter."

"What? Sure it matters! You'd be a great addition for Regionals coming up, and, well… Kurt asked about you. Which I thought was weird, because I figured he hated you. But I guess not, right? I mean, you must've apologized to him like I told you to do at the party, and then you guys had to kiss during spin-the-bottle, so I guess –"

"Shut up! Do you want the whole school to know?" Dave growls, and Finn is genuinely taken aback.

"Look, it's not that big of a deal. I mean… it was just part of the game. It didn't mean anything, and I know you're not gay, dude, even if I've joked about otherwise… before…" Finn is beginning not to like that deadpan-serious scowl on Karofsky's face. "Um… riiiight. Sorry, dude. But, uh. Kurt wanted to know why you hadn't joined yet, and I was asking the same thing, so… sorry to bug you," the tall footballer remarks, and promptly turns on his heel and fast-walks away, a little intimidated by the shorter boy's death glare.

Dave sighs and drops the expression. He hangs his head, runs his hand through his hair, and sighs for a second time. Glancing down and away, he turns and shuffles to his locker in the now nearly empty hallway. He wonders idly if he should cut class; he only has one period left. He just… has a lot on his mind.

Kurt asking about him. Finn approaching him. Glee Club. That second wonderful kiss (_with a boy; and Hummel no less,_ Dave's mind adds, but he quickly shoves the add-on away). The collective fear. The similarity between himself and Santana Lopez of all people.

It's… a bit much. Too much to take, actually. And Dave's heart and head are about to explode.

He retreats to his car, slumps down in the driver's seat, and bangs his head against the steering wheel's uppermost curve.

And that's how Santana finds him about an hour and a half later, within twenty minutes of school being let out. Almost no one is left in the parking lot except for the teachers' cars in the corner.

"Knock-knock, Karofsky," comes her brazen voice through the window panel. She has her knuckles rapping on the glass.

"Who's there?" he plays along with a hesitant tone, turning his head, forehead still on the wheel, as he glances at her.

She grins wickedly. "Your fucking fairy-ass' godmother. Who do you think? Now open up, 'cause I don't have all day."

"My fairy ass? You know what, Lopez, I could kick your ass right here and now and I'll have no problems kicking it, since you're hardly a girl," Karofsky mutters, but even so, he unlocks the door and gestures to the passenger's side.

She goes around the hood and climbs in. She doesn't buckle in; it's not like she's planning on getting a ride or anything. "And you're hardly a guy, if you're referring to what attracts me. Dumbass," she remarks. "And anyway, that's not the issue here, _muchacho._ The issue is, you know my secret and I know yours, and unless we want the news about each other to get out, we need to come to some sort of mutual agreement. And I have information over your head that you might be interested in."

"I don't make deals with backstabbing sluts," Dave responds coldly. "And besides, what could you possibly know what I'd want to know?"

"How Kurt reacted to that kiss you gave him during the game, of course. I might've come up after you – I remember that much – but it wasn't _right _after you. So I saw how things went down," Santana smirks, her glossed lips like poison.

Dave furrows his brows and arches his mouth downward. He grinds out, "All right, _fine. _But what do you want in return?"

"Not much. I don't need much right now. I only need you to join Glee. You keep resisting, boy, but the fact is you need us. And we could use you. And my guess is? Kurt would be mighty impressed if you showed up with us at Regionals and he heard you sing and saw you dance with us. And this might make his reaction a little more… solidified, if you catch my drift. So. Do we have a deal?" Santana says, ever devious and plotting.

Dave doesn't quite know what she's up to, but he rolls his eyes and clasps his hand with her proffered one. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Guess I can't be any gayer than I already am."

"That's the spirit," Santana smirks. "Now then. Kurt's reaction. How did it go, again? It's a little fuzzy, but… if I remember correctly… he touched his lips as soon as you stood up, and his face got really pink. He smiled a little, looking pleasantly surprised, but then quickly had the look wiped from his face when Rachel went next and got to kiss his boy-crush, Blaine." She watches with pleasure as Dave's face goes from a half-smile to a flat, blank expression. She waves at him. "Bye-bye, Karofsky." And she exits the vehicle with rather fluid grace.

And Dave is left wondering more than a few things, now. But one thought that keeps popping up is: _the guilty party has to be the alcohol. There's no way Hummel smiled like she said he had._


End file.
